Under the Sickle Moon
by Angelic Phantomcrow
Summary: Stiles is a practical, intelligent person that is very much reckless but very much not careless. To sum up the important points for what he's about to do. He stares at the wooden box apprehensive. The triskele on top of the cylinder stares back nearly accusingly. [...] He has a plan, he has fail-safes, he has all things laid out. And he believes... Stiles is a spark.


Stiles has a plan. One that can very much spell doom and danger to them all, but Stiles had time for this one, so he also has fail-safe over fail-safe, too. Even a last ditch effort one, he reassures himself as he scribbles between the two circles around the wooden box in the middle of the room and prepares the talisman paper slips for which he actively took a calligraphy course and for which he practiced and practiced until deep into the night that he actually only sleeps when he passes out. He now channels the lessons' knowledge perfectly well with lots of belief in what he's doing too. He remembers Deaton's words. He is a spark and he works on belief. Just because it so conveniently slipped the doc's mind afterwards, it didn't his own. The Nogitsune must have chosen him for a reason after all. Stiles couldn't forget.

Stiles is a practical person with awesome intuition and matching brain power. As proven with Scott being a werewolf, Jackson the kanima and whatever other warnings he tend to give people that ignore them and don't trust his word. Idiots, his thoughts may be often random and all over the place coupled with his lacking attention span, but he also has single-minded focus and dedication to the cause plus logic. And for whatever reason he's ready to contribute to the mess cleanup with a good plan B to Z, nice strategies, but as expected not his best considering how quick he has to come up with them. Although he's doing great thinking on his feet so far. He definitely enjoys solving a good puzzle and strategy. Although their lives aren't a game to him.

Stiles is reckless. Not careless. Reckless. And caring. Selectively.

Mind you. He's not like Scott. He can't care for the greater good.

He only cares for people he considers his own and even this people held different weights in his heart, because he doesn't necessarily have to love them to consider them his. He loves his father, his best bud Scott, Melissa and probably close enough Lydia, but they're not his only people. Most of the deputies. Jackson has made it on the list a long time ago no matter how antagonizing their relationship is or how much they hate each other. Danny too. Who could hate Danny? And he's important to Lydia and Jackson. Now he has the pack, too, although not so much. And Derek.

Stiles trusts Derek. Derek, who has earned his trust as it must be and why Stiles will come for Derek every time, because trust from Stiles is hard-earned but as equally difficult to lose again. Another case example, Scott. His brother from another mother has not been the best friend he once been since the whole werewolf gig, but despite his bad-friend-moments he still has his good-friend-moments and Stiles hasn't given up on him yet because normally Scott comes through in the end. Not to mention Stiles very much doesn't give up on family, which is also why his dad will never lose him despite the blatant distrust and disregard he sometimes shows, but that's because even with the miscommunication going on often enough they know each other also good enough.

Stiles is a practical, intelligent person that is very much reckless, but very much not careless. To sum up the important points for what he's about to do.

He stares at the wooden box apprehensive. The triskele on the top of the cylinder stares back nearly accusingly.

The silence around him makes the furious hissing and humming sound even audible to his simple human ears.

He swallows as he looks at the in the moonlight glinting blade in his right hand. He's hesitant only for a moment but determination and belief in himself makes the cut appear on his left hand swift staining the pure silver. He lays down the silver blade carefully on the northeast outside the inner circle inside the outer circle pointed at the box. It's a gate key. The first fail-safe.

The second fail-safe he draws with his blood southwest, a triskele surrounded by two rings, the back gate.

Third and initial drips blood on the triskele carving on the box.

It flows filling, the wood starts vibrating, but nothing swaps over.

Nothing will happen. Yet. The thick fluid just glows like ember in the light of the sickle moon.

Stiles breath deeply.

He steps out of the circle carefully not to smudge the ink at any point. Then he grabs the silver rods with iron tips he prepared and stabs them into the very thick outer circle leaning to the mid until it looks like he has practiced like a pentagram from above, the cage.

Fortification with mountain ash and wolfs bane.

Belief.

He starts murmuring for contact, for contract.

He kneels at the northeast gate.

He has a plan, he has fail-safes, he has all thing laid out.

And he believes. And it will work.

Stiles is a spark.


End file.
